She Who Held the Conch First
by Aphrodisia Dreams
Summary: A retelling of the classic novel in a very unique point of view! The rating is merely a precaution, just because I wasn't sure. I hope you enjoy it!Please Read and Review!I'm always ready to improve upon my writing!


A/N: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in William Golding's Lord of the Flies. I don't even own the narrarator of the peice(if you want to venture a guess as to who it's by!), and only felt like elaborating upon it's possible "opinion" of the events that occured within the book.  
  
  
  
She Who Held the Conch First  
  
written by Aphrodisia Dreams  
  
I held the ancient wisdom that they had not yet grasped. I watched, silent, the pair of young lads pick their way across my scarred flesh; the wirey one fell upon it. My gapeless lips laughed with mirth as one chose to shed his school clothes and rollick within my measureless layers- their anxieties forgotten and left behind inside me. I hatched the conch from inside my gut; I was pleased they chose part of me to govern them.I giggled in selfish delight as tiny feet ran across my belly towards the enchanting, gutteral sound indirectly created by me. I was enchanted by the singing of darkened voices. Evesdropping, I listened to them choose their leader and I was happy- he had been the first to place his feet upon me. He was the first to dance within me.  
  
Silently I allowed three sets of two crawl over my surface, searching for a solution I knew to be painfully inevitable. I wished to comfort their sorrow at their discovery- they were alone. I vowed to watch over them.  
  
I pleaded for mercy as the fire-headed sapling tried to kill one of my children's children, the little piglet only just able to escape. I was thankful.  
  
I watched with horror as one of the littlest was taken by the inferno that blazed upon my forehead and spread like a monster down my spine, the disastor slowly taken under control- then again as they argued in scorn of another. I cried for my wounds, the black spots that litered my whimsical body like a virus.  
  
My intrests were attuned not by the sadistically skillfull Jack Merridew, but instead upon the small group of boys who painfully ripped my foliage from their roots to create huts. I willingly accepted the pain, and instead tried to focus upon the playful children scampering along my arms and legs, exploring the crevasses of my body with innocent excitement. I would tickle their ankles playfully with my splotched fingers.  
  
I sheltered the dark-headed boy within my tangled nests of hair, a light breeze sent to comfort him. He was a young saint, finding love of all my littlest brothers and sisters-rather than killing them. I blocked out the sound of aruging from below, and instead kissed my adolescent wisdom upon his soiled forehead.  
  
I wanted to disipline the brutal, older boy as he crashed through fabulous works of art and fantasied playtime.I felt the need to clense my skin of his dirty footprints, then embrace the whimpering one in my all- encompassing embrace and wipe the sand from his eyes.  
  
I have lost my trust.  
  
I mourned for my orphans as their rescue was denied, then screamed in agony and sadness as the "others" returned with one of my own children skewred. I closed my eyes as they cut her up and passed her around, blocking my ears from the primordial sounds of their chanting- their lust for death.  
  
I have lost my sympathy  
  
In pain, I wished I could have comforted the fat one in the distruction of his sight, but I was too busy adverting my fathomless gaze to the atrocities such little people were creating. My heart broke as they accused me of giving sanctuary to a monster, and recoiled in disgust from their speculations; but I still desired to comfort them and wisk them from their nightmares. I hummed to them silently.  
  
My gaze faltered as I watched even the strong one fell to the temptation of their haunting dance. I listened to their screams of terror without a care.  
  
I have lost my faith  
  
Finally, anger broke with my young orphans. I bellowed in fury, tears of hate and scorn falling upon them as they distroyed their last innocent mind. I screamed, flashing long nails across the sky. I sobbed for my most beloved of children, cradling him against a warm bosom as he felt the chilled arrival of death. I cried for him, carrying him off into a peaceful place, an unforseen and premature burial within my protective depths. I spit into the fire along with my tears, finding my flesh splattered with ugly blood and inwards. I had lost my hope.  
  
Upon my last grasp of despiration, I watch in horror as the innately sensible one is sent into my stomach. Into his death. The conch is sent into sharp splinters, freckling my surface with crimson fluids and gleaming shells. I cannot comfort him.. I cannot bury him. I am too distant to cry.  
  
I have lost my love.  
  
I cough and sputter and whimper in agony as my skin is burned away, charcoaled within smoke that the last one hid within. I could hardly shelter him, my body withering away from fire. I groan in anguish as the painted bodies of tiny savages crawl over me, chanting their horrid words. I feel my last orphan's fear. I am afraid with him.  
  
I allow a soft breeze of relief to blow across the crisp uniforms of adults. I smirk in delight as the tiny carnivores are stopped in their tracks, tears blossoming within the corners of those dark-rimmed eyes. I allow them to board upon the boats, slowly disappearing into oblivion,only to leave me with the dying and desecrated.  
  
I am alone, and I am burning.  
  
Fini  
  
Read and Review!I hope you enjoyed it..well... for the type of story it is, I mean!  
  
As you have might have guessed, this story is in the words of the island and ocean where the novel "Lord of the Flies" took place. I don't think anyone else has quite taken this approach, and I am a fledgling writer, so, if there was anything you particularly liked(or loathed) please tell me, so I can approve upon my writing! Thanks!! 


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